Der Schlanker Mann
by ReadySetJett
Summary: When a mysterious letter arrives at his home in Mayfair, the monstrumologist Daniel Eckhart is called away to Detroit by his college to investigate killings and kidnappings with unknown consequences. **This is my character's POV of the roleplay over on dA so no Will Henry or Warthrop! but it'll still be awesome! /T because I have no idea what is going to happen though, oh gosh
1. A Sodden Messanger

**A/N: This is actually my character, Daniel's, POV for a roleplay over on DeviantArt! :D So there is no Warthrop or Will Henry, but it's still the Monstrumologist universe! We're doing a Slenderman roleplay! I absolutely cannot wait to add in my character Peter into this. I don't know all the prompts yet, so I don't know when I can add him!**

**Even if it doesn't have Will Henry or Warthrop, I hope you guys enjoy it!**

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Daniel roused himself with a growl as he heard a scratching at the front door. When it didn't go away, he began to regain his senses and reach into his bag. he pulled out his revolver, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. This was one of the rare moments he actually could do so, and he was not taking kindly to being woken so rudely.

He slid out of the covers and kept to the walls as he crept down the corridors of his house. He slid behind the front door and took a breath, then flung the door open and jabbed his revolver at the intruder. He was taken aback when it was a sopping wet large cat. It looked like a small leopard, really. Without any sort of invitation at all, it padded inside and shook itself. Water splattered all over the floor, and himself, though the cat didn't care. It simply padded over to the hearth and curled up, looking rather miserable.

Daniel shut the door and, keeping his aim fixed on the cat, strode over. It didn't bat an eye, and held out it's neck to him. On it, there was a thick collar with a small messenger bag sort of thing like one would use to send letters with doves. He opened it, the cat didn't react, and pulled out a slighting damped letter. It was sealed in red wax with a ornate letter 'M' on it. Daniel immediately recognized it as a college of his, one Madam Parvana Bayonet.

Sighing, Daniel tossed the letter from Miss Bayonet onto the coffee table and lay his revolver down carefully. Scratching the back of his head sleepily, he stumbled down the hall and opened the linen close to take out a towel. The animal was getting the floor sopping wet, and Daniel wasn't appreciating that to say the least. Parvana's letter could wait for a few minutes.

Grudgingly, he crouched beside the ocelot and rubbed the towel roughly along its back. He didn't particularly care for most animals, though he often thought a house cat, or perhaps a dog, would suit his needs for companionship. He preferred them over people, after all.

The ocelot snapped at his wrist, to which he knocked it on the head with his knuckles. It hissed and grumpily lay on the hearth, glaring a him resentfully from the corner of its eyes. Daniel knew it was, for the most part, tamed as well as trained. If Parvana gave it a letter to send to him, it must be obedient whether she was its trainer or not. She had a contact in England it seemed, though it was hardly unsurprising.

Pushing away the towel to the edge of the hearth, he stood up. His knees ached a moment before he shook it off and sat on the sofa, picking up the letter. He studied it once more, finding nothing but Parvana on it. Yawning, he cracked the ornate seal and opened the envelope without much enthusiasm. The letter was crisply folded, but the handwriting nearly illegible. Thankfully, his years in an office with Ainsworth were paying off. He had organized a filing system, which he had to work merely because the old man didn't want to change his current method. His handwriting was positively horrid and it was almost like cracking a language that consisted of characters rather than letters.

"Greetings, Mister Eckhart," he muttered, not repressing a large yawn. He blinked his eyes blearily and continued.

"I do hope this finds you well, sir—or perhaps, well enough. I apologize if my dear Percy intruded on you; I have no way of controlling him from the States, of course. I hope, also, that you would accept my invitation to Detroit. We have been having some rather dark circumstances. Children, for the most part, as well as handicapped adults, usually rather elderly, will disappear only to be found the next day in the park near Detroit. Currently, I am staying in a hotel to study the incidents. The killings are neat and precise; body parts severed and places neatly in bags, and so on. However, this is rather odd, not all the body parts seem human. I have found tufts of fur from perhaps a squirrel or a small dog that'd been missing inside a bag that had been claimed to be an 5-year-old girl. However, there has also been a sharp increase from the residents of this town that have gone to an insane asylum several miles away; even I am not sure what is becoming of their deteriorating mental state. That shall be remedied soon, though I suspect it is linked to the killings.

"I have written to Shimuzu Chi on the matter and will, undoubtedly, be joining us. I only wish you to join us. These events to fall under 'unexplainable phenomenons' as nether I nor the detectives can deduce anything. On another note, the killer, I recall, seems to not exist, so I assume you'd know all about it. It is called Der Ritter; the Slenderman.

"I wish you well, sir. Godspeed to you, should you come, which I implore you to do so.

"Your humble colleague,

"Parvana Bayonet.

"P. S.: Don't worry about Percy. Send your reply with him and he'll meet my contact and proceed to my hotel. And please, wait for me in the lobby once you arrive."

Daniel read the letter once more, studying all the information he'd been given. Deep in his gut, his stomach churned with nervous tension. Something didn't sit right. Mixed evidence, kidnapped seniors and children; CHILDREN for Christ's sake! Daniel may not have liked children, but they were innocent and knew nothing of life outside of their own city let alone what lurked in the shadows; what lurked, ready to snatch them up covetously and destroy them much as it had done to him. As for those in bedlam, he was a bit interested but also rather nervous; he was also anxious around asylums for fear he'd be locked up in one.

His gaze flicked up to Percy. The ocelot appeared to be sleeping, until it open one golden eye lazily to look back at him before resuming his nap. Wearily, Daniel slid the letter back into the envelope and fetched his own parchment.

Miss Bayonet,

I have received your letter and it is, to say the least, intriguing. However, I do not agree with sending Shimuzu. She is headstrong and reckless, and simply will not listen to orders if they restrict her. Something dark is afoot, and we need someone to take orders. This is not the norm for me. I have done the paperwork on the wendigo incident, and this seems similar. I find it much darker, though. This monster is too precise. It knows what it is doing to the point of above average intelligence, unlike the former John Chanler.

I advise you to not take any further actions until I arrive. I shall prepare my things tonight and be off by the morning. You can expect me in Detroit in four days time.

Cordially,

Dr. Daniel Eckhart

He placed the latter into it's envelope, before sealing it with wax. He turned and strode back to the hearth, kneeling beside the ocelot. He tucked it beneath its paw and stood up, returning to his room to pack his tool kit. The low alcohol container was refilled, cleaned his revolvers, and put in fresh water in its appropriate containers. He moved on to packing his other things as well as getting dressed since he would, undoubtedly, not be getting anymore sleep.

As he buttoned his shirt, his mind began to call up facts about the SlenderMan. According to other monstrumologists, it did not exist, much like vampires and werewolves, so naturally he believed it was real and got ridicule as well as becoming the butt of many jokes once again. SlenderMan was an entity that'd walked the earth since man had begun to crawl. It'd watched, it'd adapted. It was known for such types of killing, particularly attached to children. It drove men into insanity.

Daniel hardly worried about that, however. He was already quite insane. Brennanburg had seen to that.

~X~X~X~

Daniel's money had been stolen that day—twice, actually, though one was more of an attempt.

The ocelot, Percy, had gotten ahold of his wallet and had snatched probably about fifty pounds before Daniel had noticed it and shooed it away. After that, it'd run off (with his money and his letter); probably to Parvana's contact and on to America. The second time, a pickpocket had pulled it from his back pocket. Daniel was quick; quicker and younger than he outwardly appeared. The poor perpetrator hadn't know what had happened. Daniel had pivoted on his heels and kicked the other man's legs out before hauling him off into an alley to deal with him more quietly. What several fingers to the larynx and windpipe can do is an amazing art. It was safe to say that he wouldn't be stealing anyone else's wallet. He couldn't do that with disfigured fingers.

As he waited for his boat, Daniel reflected the SlenderMan for the umpteenth time. If anything, it seemed like a relapse of the wendigo incident. As it had been said before, he'd done the paperwork and had gotten every detail. According to the report, the monstrumologist involved, Pellinore Warthrop, and his former fiancé and wife of the late John Chanler were rather torn apart after becoming almost suspiciously close (or that was how it was to Daniel). Unfortunately, quite literally. John was seeking some form of revenge against Warthrop and murdered Muriel Chanler in a fit of boredom and rage, though it seemed he was going to do that anyway.

This SlenderMan, however, seemed far more sinister. It had no motive, as many monsters did, but it didn't eat, apparently, or sleep. It simply was, like it had been recorded throughout literature and history.

Daniel knew the things that supposedly didn't exist, even among momstrumologists, and that was the only reason he was going, he realized. He doubted Parvana would want his company willingly, as much as he wanted Shimuzu's. The woman was obsessed and he didn't like it one bit.

He sighed, standing and boarding his ship as it was called. Onwards and upwards, it seemed; onwards and into the darkness.


	2. Waiting

**A/N: Not much to say very much about this chapter c: But I am starting to sketch out a picture for this story of Daniel and this babby child I'm going to introduce later if I can have my way with this roleplay. OH! And for an english project (which I keep forgetting to do sh don't let GET TO WORK JEEZUS) I'm using Daniel! c: It'll be a chapter in a novel, so no action but it's about vampires, so he can rub Chi and Parvana and every other monstrumologist's face in it. And it's none of that sparkle shit-FULL OUT DEMONS AWW YISS.**

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Daniel picked at his salad in distaste. He had never been overly fond of it, though he liked to stay as physically healthy as possible. He hated doctors and examinations as much as he hated fieldwork. Granted, fieldwork was much more dangerous and a bit more interesting than visits to the doctor.

He glanced around the lobby for the umpteenth time that evening, fiddling with a copy of the local newspaper. That blasted Parvana had told him to meet her in the lobby for her hotel (The Blue Crocus), and he had—for the past three days. He hadn't seen her once, at lunch, breakfast, or dinner, or just loitering about. He had had nothing to do; there was no Chi to patronize him, there was no local uproar, there wasn't even a pickpocket for him to disfigure. Not even the cat, Percy, had come to shake his wet hide on Daniel's clothes and deliver another message. And it was driving him right batty. If there wasn't anything in another hour, he was packing up his things and going back to Mayfair.

"Mr. Eckhart!" called a bellboy suddenly, "Is there a Mr. Daniel Eckhart?"

Daniel looked up sharply, standing automatically. Straightening his tie, he strode to the desk.

"Yes?" he asked.

"This is yours, sir!"

The concierge handed him a black briefcase with no markings on it other than a butterfly insignia on the top beside a tab that said, "If lost, please return to Dr. Daniel Eckhart". It was odd, but Daniel found himself not questioning it. It was more than likely from Parvana. This probably would not be the last trick she would pull like this, and certainly not the first.

"Oh, yes, thank you, sir!" Daniel said, sounding relieved, "I was terribly afraid it had gone missing! Who found it?"

"A younger woman, I think. Darker hair, rather messy looking, though, if you ask me."

"Ah, thank you again!"

"You're very welcome, sir."

Smiling fakely, Daniel turned and strode briskly to the lift, and took it to his room on the third floor. So it had been Parvana who had delivered the case. It may have been Chi, but it was much more likely that Miss Bayonet had left it for him.

Daniel stepped off the lift and down the hall to unlock his hotel room. He put the case down on the coffee table and sat on the sofa. He studied the case front and back, finding nothing except the aforementioned butterfly insignia. With a sigh, he reluctantly unclipped the locks and flipped open the lid. The case was filled with files, evidence bags, papers, papers, and more papers. He growled. Parvana was either obsessed, or thorough—or, perhaps, both.

He undid his tie and unbuttoned his vest and the top few of his shirt. This was going to be a long evening.

~X~X~X~

Much of the contents inside the case were missing persons cases. Daniel had thought nothing of them at first, but then realized how many there were, many children. There were a few bodies, mostly of adults but there were children in the mix, but they were gruesome. Organs pulled out, some put in bags, even one where the organs were stretched to their limits but still working. For the best, the officers at the scene had shot the man.

Daniel pulled a small bag from the case and examined it through the plastic. It appeared to be black fabric, as though from a suit. There was also a pin, very much like Parvana's, in another bag and a file that went along with it. He didn't bother to read it. Instead he gathered everything from the case and began to lay them out on the table. He needed organization; his thoughts were always scattered and organization collected them. He started to sort them by date, then realized he didn't need to know the dates; most were within the last six moths. He then began to sort them between missing person and death; then between children and adults. He set the cloth and pin aside for the time being and started to examine the cases more closely.

He examined a file (he had sorted under child deaths) which contained a case of two sisters had been brutally mauled by, what the police said, a bear. Daniel, however, wasn't convinced. People were trying to put a label on what had happened and what was happening because of their fear. Perhaps it was the fear of the unknown.

Slowly, he began to realize Parvana wanted him to brief him and let him digest this information himself before she saw him, rather than having to go through this with him all herself. That would take time, and taking up time would slow down the pace of find this SlenderMan.

His eyes skimmed the children's files, resting his chin on his knuckles thoughtfully. He mentally sorted the information as well, and he noted that many, if not all, the parents of the children had told the police what their children had told them; he had seen a 'tall man' among the trees, or a 'pale man making faces a them' which was impossible; their rooms had been on the second and third floors. Daniel grimaced, and began to look at the addresses. If Parvana hadn't already talked to the parents, he would. He began to scribble down the address on a pad and paper with the family names beside them.

On the last one, there was a sudden, rather loud, knock on the door. It made Daniel jump, his hand slashing across the paper, and he looked up wildly, his other hand scrabbling for his bag. It was on the bed across the room. Daniel tenses himself, visions of the manmade monsters at Brennanburg flashing through his mind.

He steeled, and composed himself. He took a deep breath through his nose and finished the address before standing. He hesitated when he reached the door. He wasn't sure who would be on the other side. Maybe it was Parvana, maybe is was Chi, maybe it was someone else entirely. Still, he felt the strong urge to open the door; he needed to.

So he did.


	3. Who took Sissy?

**Hey, guys! Sorry for the wait. I had some trouble getting my butt in gear to write . But I'm back! This is a shorter chapter, but I'm actually pretty happy with it. I hope you guys like it too! :D**

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There stood a tall, thin woman with what seemed like a permanent smirk on her face. She was straight backed and stood proud. She would have, perhaps, been considered beautiful by many men—until they saw the hideous scar marred the left side of her face. It stretched from her cheek to partially off her jaw. Her black hair was sloppy and short, longer on the left to presumably try to hide her scar.

"About time, Madame Bayonet," he sighed, extending a hand courteously. He wasn't entirely sure if she was one of those women who had quirks about shaking hands or not. In the end, she flounced past him, completely ignoring his extended hand, and stepped inside.

"Ah, save the formalities, Dr. Erkhart—"

"Eckhart."

"—Erkhart, that's what I said. Just call me Bayonet. Or Parvana. Or Madame, 'that guy', and so on." She chuckled at her own joke, to which he tried his best to ignore. But there was just something about her manner of speaking that seemed familiar. As he shut the door, he fished deep on his memory to match the voice. He turned back and studied her face. It was the eyes that gave it away.

"You were the bellhop, weren't you?" he growled, shifting restlessly. Bayonet laughed, grinning, and clapped her hands once.

"One for you, sir! Five for me!"

He should have known she may have been in costume. Bayonet's insistence on wearing constant and unexpected disguises is almost a universal fact amongst their colleagues—not that any of them talked to him really, he mostly eavesdropped to listen to their complaints.

Then the smile faded from her face, though there was still the mischievous light in her eyes, and she sighed.

"Fortunately, there's been another attack. I trust you've been reading the information I've given you; we don't have any time to spare here. I can't find a single shred of evidence to guess its moves."

"Fortunately?" Daniel spluttered, taken aback. Bayonet only strode back to the door and began to step through.

"There's a cab waiting for you, Erkhart. It'll take you where you need to go."

"What the hell did you mean, 'fortunately, there's been another attack'?" he spat as she was halfway to the lift. She stopped and looked over her shoulder. The sudden chill in her cobalt eyes gave him ran down his spine.

"You need to see what we're up against, Daniel. It's one thing to look at pictures, but quite another to witness the flesh and bone."

And with that, she disappeared into the lift.

Daniel's shoulders remained tense and he shivered, turning back into his room to gather his items into his bag.

.

.

.

The cab took him to an affluent neighborhood. It would have been a very pleasant, a very quiet, day, had it not been for police swarming about one house. Daniel watched as policemen interviewed neighbors and passersby, and going to the backyard with yellow caution tape to, presumably, tape off the back. The tall, dark trees of the wood were a stark contrast against the neat white house in front of it, and it made Daniel's stomach flip once in his gut.

A very harassed looking policeman stood alone, looking around. When Daniel got out, he came scrambling over.

"You're Bayonet's associate, correct?" he asked, sounding a tad miffed.

"That would be me, sir," Daniel said, eyes flicking from house to house along the treeline.

"Come this way, please."

Daniel did so, weaving through the sea of officers to the front door of the house. Something was wrong with this place; something was just... Wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something different about this place. It wasn't the house, or houses, that threw him off, no. This whole case was really starting to agitate him. Why would Bayonet bother to call on him, anyway? Couldn't she even read? There was literature about SlenderMan all over the world. Perhaps, it was fate. Or, perhaps, it was on a whim and an ocelot with an attitude.

He stepped inside and was led into a parlor where several officers, Bayonet and said ocelot with an attitude, and a very drawn couple that must have been the victims parents. The officers at the table with questioning the couple, whose replies with quick and quiet. Parvana listened and took notes, studying the couple curiously. Daniel began to step around the table to take a seat by Parvana, but was stopped when he felt something grab onto his pant leg. His first reaction was to panic, and kick it until it released him, but he controlled himself and looked down to see a little girl ( she couldn't have been more then five) looking up at him with large, tearful brown eyes.

"Help me!" she whispered fearfully. Frowning, Daniel crouched down to her height. She was perched on the hearth, arms now wrapped around herself as if to assure herself it'd be alright.

"What's wrong, dear?" he asked quietly to match her tone. Behind him, the woman began to weep and her husband try to console her, drowning out their whispering. The little girl's lip quivered as tears threatened to spill over her cheeks. Daniel awkwardly shifted, unsure to console her or pat her shoulder so he did neither, merely adjusting himself.

"I tell them who took Sissy, but they won't listen!" she continued urgently.

"Who took her, Sissy?" whispered back Daniel.

"You won't believe me, like them!"

"I will," he promised, "I believe in many things, you know."

The little girl hesitated, looking over at her parents nervously.

"They told me to stop."

"I won't tell them anything, I swear." He made an X over his heart.

"I saw her when she disappeared at night! I was scared so I went to Sissy's room." She began to shake and Daniel took a seat in front of her, trying to patiently wait for her to continue.

"She wasn't in her room and the window was open, so I looked out her window and I saw her by the trees. She was hugging him!"

"Hugging who?" Daniel asked slowly, though he already had a feeling he knew the answer.

She paused, and when she answered, it was a high, frightened chirp.

"The Tall, Skinny Man!"


	4. Revelation

"Christine!" came the tortured snap of her mother. "Enough of that foolish talk!" The distraught woman's voice was shaking and thick. Daniel patted the girl's back awkwardly. He was showing his sympathy, he decided.

"Doctor," Bayonet's voice chimed in, speaking as though she were a school teacher and he was a disobedient child. "If you would join us, please."

"I think I shall, Ms. Bayonet," he said calmly, nodding once at the little girl before climbing to his feet. He did not take a seat, but, rather, he stood by the window, glancing out on occasion.

"So there was nothing out of the ordinary?" asked the officer, supposedly in charge of the case.

"No," said the husband edgily. His hands and voice shook ever so slightly, but he kept himself relatively composed, "We ate dinner, put the girls to bed, and the next thing I know, Christine's screaming and crying and there's no sign of Agatha." His mouth pulled into a pained grimace, and his wife sniffled. A flash of movement caught Daniel's eye and he turned sharply. There was nothing out there; it was just a raven perching on the post of the back patio. Unease crept into the back of his mind, more so than before. He shifted anxiously. The woods were dark, and eerie. God only knew what was inside them.

"Right," the officer continued with a sigh. "I'm sorry, Mr. Troy, Mrs. Troy; we'll take one last look-see, then pull out and see what we can find." The man stood up, shook hands with the husband, and signaled for his men to leave.

After a moment of the Troy couple quietly lamenting, waiting for the two monstrumologists to leave. When they didn't Mr. Troy looked up, looking rather distressed.

"The inspector said the police were going," he said testily, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Oh, no, sir," Bayonet said with a pleasant smile. "We're not police."

"Then what are you doing here?" his wife said bitterly. "Is this a joke to you?"

Before Parvana could rush in with an upsetting remark, Daniel cut in calmly, "No, madam, it is not by any means, a joke. In fact, these sorts of things are our... Specialties, you could say."

"What sort of business are you in?"

"Philosophy," Daniel said, after a moments hesitation.

"What sort of philosophy involves kidnapping children?" Mrs. Troy was becoming more and more hysterical, that was plain to see. Her husband gently shushed her and put an arm around her shoulders.

"Is there anything you haven't told the police?" Daniel asked. "Anything strange you found when you went into Agatha's room?"

The Troy's were quiet for a moment.

"Well, there was one thing," Mrs. Troy sniffed.

"What was that, if I may ask?"

"The curtains were missing."

Daniel nodded slowly. He tapped his fingers against the knuckles of his other hand thoughtfully, nodding to himself. On account of how big the Slenderman was (its height, of course), it was probable that it may have ripped the curtains.

"One last thing, then we'll need to check your girl's room, in case the police have missed anything," Bayonet said, "Had she been acting strangely? Avoiding the wood? Jumpy? Feverish?"

"No, not at all," Mr. Troy said, frowning fiercely, "She was as happy a seven year old girl could be."

Bayonet nodded slowly, sighing a little, then stood sharply.

"We'll examine your daughter's room and see what we can find; see if the police have missed anything," she said confidently, and led the way up the stairs, muttering to Daniel, who scurried behind her, "Which they probably have, the poor fools."

The ocelot was scampering up behind Daniel and pushed past him, very nearly making him fall back down the stairs. He cursed, glaring at the animal.

"How rude!" cooed Bayonet lovingly, "Percy, you ought to know better!"

"Maybe if you just got rid of the stupid thing," muttered Daniel. "You're in no place for an animal like that."

"Daniel, really now," she said in a chiding voice, "you ought to have some manners as well!"

Daniel scowled, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked into the room with obnoxious yellow caution tape across the frame. It was a tidy little room, with whites and pinks and butterflies adorning it. There was a particular area against the wall that was marked off. It was the window with the curtains torn off. The police hadn't missed it (but they probably had destroyed it; the window was closed), like the parents had said, but they would have no clue what to make of it; Daniel didn't even know what to make of it.

Bayonet studied it curiously, then said, without looking back at him, "We're seeing a break in the pattern, Dr. Erkhart—"

"Eckhart," Daniel corrected in annoyance, keeping his impatience in check.

"This newest victim has not been displaying the typical signs of 'slender fever'," continued Parvana, undaunted, "Up until the point of her disappearance, the girl had never come across our slender fellow, displayed any aversion to the woods or windows, and actually seemed perfectly happy—"

"Up to the point where she vanished into thin air; yes, I know all that," scowled Daniel, "I was there, after all."

When Parvana gave him a cold glare, he glared back and moved near the bed when Percy was getting to close to him for his liking. Currently, it was pawing at several flecks of dust and eying Daniel malevolently.

"Precisely. Now, what I want to know is how the curtains factor into this. If you'd come a bit closer, Doctor, you'll note that—"

"Parvana, as much as I'd like to let you finish a sentence once in a while, I'm not going anywhere until you get your damn cat away from me!" Daniel spat as Percy smacked as his heel. Bayonet pouted, but clucked her tongue at Percy who immediately shot under the bed, one paw scuffing his neat shoes resentfully.

Daniel had had just about enough of that stupid beast. The prospect of having an ocelot head mounted on his study wall was becoming more and more appealing.

Percy batted at Daniel's short laces maliciously, claws nipping at his trim trousers and his ankles. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Not going to take any more abuse from a lowly feline, the doctor got on his knees and was attempting to reach under the bed for the cat, who had backed up against the wall. "Get back here, you rotten little throw rug!"

Parvana cleared her throat, forcing him to pay attention to her. He was almost to the point where he almost drew one of his revolvers to shoot the cat dead, because he had took a swipe and gashed the back of his hand, when she began to speak again.

"If you'd come a bit closer, Doctor Erkhart," Bayonet resumed patiently, forcing Daniel to abandon his undignified position on the floor, "You'll notice that the curtains have been torn from the overhang with tremendous force, so it certainly wasn't the child who removed them. It, of course, makes one wonder what did."

"We know what did," sighed Daniel, nursing his injured hand. "How many times must we state the obvious?"

"You may think you know for certain, Doctor," Bayonet sniffed, "but I won't rule out any possibilities until I have reason to."

"Why bother to call on me then?" snapped the doctor.

Parvana opened her mouth to retort when she was cut off yet again, this time by the ocelot, who had been slinking away towards the doorway, and Daniel took that moment to attempt to covertly grab it by the scruff.

"Percy! What has gotten into you!'

Then, the cat assumed a most peculiar pose. It was facing the window but leaning back, crouching onto its front paws while leaving its back legs slanted backwards, its tail sticking straight into the air. The strange behavior, however, was not the issue—it was the yowling and screaming issuing from its mouth, along with several snarls and spits.

"Your damn cat is crazy!" Daniel barked over the screeches, "You get it out of here before the parents make us leave, citing indecent behavior, or something!"

However, his words appeared to fall upon deaf ears, which was not really that new of an occurrence, but not because Bayonet was talking over him, which was often the case.

She was facing the same direction of the cat, toward the window, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, all traces of composure gone. So white, in fact, Daniel was sure she was about to faint.

"Bayonet—" he said, slightly worried as he made to steady her.

"Daniel…" she rasped. Daniel was taken aback a moment, then moved towards the window, as if drawn by the sudden use of his given name.

The young girl's guardians, in their infinite paternal wisdom, had seen fit to give their daughter a view of the woods that surrounded the back of the house. What had caught Bayonet's gaze was not the magnificent, dark pine trees that dotted the line of the woods, but the long, thin shape and slender body of a man, dressed in a business suit, standing just out of the woods and facing the house.

Daniel's breath stopped. His heart began to race. Slowly, he crept forward, past the caution tape to the window pane. He stared into the blank white face, eyes narrowing to get a better view. The creature had to be, at least, three meters tall, and all monochrome. The appearance itself wasn't frightening; it had no teeth or claws. With its monstrously disproportional limbs, it looked more like a child's handmade ragdoll rather than a proper monster. It was neat, as though it was on its way to the meeting of a lifetime.

Then, the strangest thing happened.

Daniel wasn't sure if Parvana felt it, but he did. A static tingle in his eyes, dancing through to the back of his brain. It was maddening; like an itch he couldn't scratch. He hated it. He didn't know what, why, or how, by he hated it with all his being. He felt fear, and panic, and frustration, and utter loathing.

On pure instinct and fresh adrenaline as his vision flickered strangely from black to white then back again, he slammed his heel into the pane of the closed window. He seized one of the revolvers on his satchel with all the grace of Percy's running, and braced himself the framework. He managed to fire off a single round as the static became overwhelming. He let out a short cry, slumping over the frame and the broken glass, tightening his grip on the handle of his gun. Soon after he looked away, the static settled.

Every bit of his energy felt sucked out of him. His vision was still dark, but it had a reddish tinge to it now. Someone grasped his shoulders and pulled him back, off the jagged shards. Weakly, he rubbed the corner of his eyes to clear them, revolver falling to the floor, and found his hand sticky when he pulled it away. He heard feet pounding on the stairs. His head pounded and he very much felt like he was going to vomit.

Bayonet sucked in a sharp breath and sat him upright. From what he could see, she had regained some color in her cheeks but her hands still held a shake. Percy was sitting right in her lap, obviously terrified.

Daniel only succeeded in smearing the slight stickiness in his eyes, rather than wiping it away, as the remaining police officers burst into the room. One man seized his revolver, and he vaguely felt anger. He rubbed his eyes again, clearing them with more success and found his hands covered in blood. That may have been cut from the glass, but he had a feeling the shards were not to blame.

Daniel made a face. He was almost sure his eyes were no longer bleeding, and found his mouth had a most sour taste in it. Hands hauled him to his feet and he staggered, feeling somewhat drunk.

"What happened?" demanded an officer, jabbing a finger accusingly at Daniel as his bag was taken from him. "What's wrong with your eyes!"

"A condition," rasped Daniel, making to take his bag back, "Give that back to me—"

The police officer promptly handed it to a man beside him, repeating his first question with more emphasis, "What happened?"

"I, ah, saw the man who took the girl, I thought," Daniel said slowly, still trying to force his mind to correctly think. "I reacted upon adrenaline alone and I will pay for the damages—"

"You've got enough drugs in here to drop an elephant!" accused the officer with his bag, sounding very surprised. Daniel went silent and screamed internally.

"I, um—" he tried to think of an excuse. "That I can explain."

"You were delusional; off on these things! These are illegal, I'll have you know!"

"I'm from London," he put up his hands in submission and shrugged nonchalantly. "They're legal there, in some places. And I'll have you know, some of those are medications."

The men gave him a look of disgust.

"You're coming down to the station," he growled and a man roughly forced Daniel's arms behind his back. He grunted in pain and staggered on his feet. He was handcuffed, naturally, and forced down the stairs.

As he crossed the yard to the car waiting, Parvana rushed to his side, flanked by several men. Daniel dug in his heels to listen to her speak.

"My things!" she chattered in anxious German, to which he assumed she spoke it so the police couldn't understand. "They won't search my things, will they?"

"I've done this before," Daniel said, echoing the language, still resisting, "Act calm, or like you didn't know I had the drugs or something. You and your tools will be fi- AGH GODDAMNIT!"

The police officer behind him gave him a shove and hit him, hard, in the back of the head with his baton. He pushed him into the back and slammed the doors shut, leaving Daniel in the dark.

He began to feel anxious.

Not so much about the drugs he had possession of, he had gone through this before, but the woods was beginning to frighten him. He didn't want to go near there again. A monster was a monster, and he usually looked at them with a scientific eye. But, there was something about this Slender creature that was different; something that was altogether more sinister.

The back of his neck prickled and what felt like a tear streaked out of his eye. It was probably blood, however.

He shut his eyes and began to tremble, wishing and wanting to be back home.


End file.
